


Rest Time Regulations

by Glaciere



Category: Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-31
Updated: 2007-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-09 01:44:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glaciere/pseuds/Glaciere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone has to give in and Tsubasa makes sure he isn't first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rest Time Regulations

Takizawa comes out of the bedroom almost at noon, yawning and scratching his stomach, with his hair a mess and just a little curly from dampness in the air.

It's late June, humid and smelling like sweat when Tsubasa dares to step outside his apartment, and he has to shower three times a day - five, when they have sex. Which they had. Yesterday.

Today is bright and sunny, and Takizawa's sleepy grin when he looks at Tsubasa is just as bright. He stumbles towards the table, where toasts have been waiting for him since morning.

"Hi," he says. Tsubasa's smile is lopsided; he studies Takizawa intently and then suddenly gives up - it's like every other morning.

Takizawa doesn't even show he remembers nights. Sex. Something. Sometimes Tsubasa wonders if maybe they're really just best-friends-more-like-family. "That's sick," he mutters under his breath, and laughs.

***  
It's well past three when they head to an interview. It's unbearably hot in Takizawa's car, the black leather of the seat burns Tsubasa's legs even through jeans. The day flows lazily outside the window, and Tsubasa closes his eyes, opens them again only when Takizawa stops the car.

"Fell asleep?" Takizawa asks, opening the door and letting the heavy air inside. Tsubasa shakes his head.

"Nah." He pauses for a minute. "Was thinking."

Takizawa hums and walks into a cafe where today's photo shoot slash interview is supposed to be.

The girl - the reporter - is young, probably around twenty-five, and pretty. A newbie. She smiles at Takizawa, who smiles back and the only one who doesn't smile at all is Tsubasa.

"My name is Inoue," she says, showing teeth so white they're probably fake.

"Imai Tsubasa," he answers, waits for Takizawa to tell his name and then it's time to talk.

She starts with the usual: what do they expect from this year, what do they want to do as a team, what do they want in a girlfriend. The answers roll off his tongue so easily he doesn't even stop to think about them. It's forbidden to say what he wants, so Tsubasa tells stories; they're pretty and plausible and not one bit true.

"I'll be hosting a radio program starting next month," he says, and that one is true; he feels rather than sees Takizawa's surprised glance and yeah - remembers that he hadn't told him about that yet.

He doesn't tell Takizawa much these days. The sex washes everything out of his mind, the sex and the continuous pretense they have to feign. At least he had hoped it's a pretense.

He isn't so sure anymore.

***  
When Tsubasa cooks dinner that night, Takizawa tells him he wishes his future wife will be able to cook like this.

The knife between Tsubasa's ribs twists and goes just a little deeper into his heart.

He smiles and laughs and kisses and bleeds, too.

***  
Tsubasa throws the magazine on the low table and sighs.

"I just wish they would stop asking stupid questions," he tells Takizawa, who looks up from his computer's screen and frowns.

"What questions?"

"You know," Tsubasa shrugs. "When I'm going to marry. What would I get my girlfriend as a present. Things like that."

"Why?" Now Takizawa sounds confused. Tsubasa closes his eyes and wants to say 'I'm with you already' or something equally stupid and true, but out comes, "I'm gay."

The words hang in the air for a moment, and then—

"I know that. So what?"

Takizawa asks in a voice so calm, Tsubasa actually laughs.

"So I don't want to. Marry," it's amazing that he needs to explain; he feels the laugher bubble inside him, laughter which has hysterical edge to it. Just... amazing.

"It's what people expect," says Takizawa carefully, watching Tsubasa with narrowed eyes. Tsubasa licks his lips.

"I'm tired," he stands up and sways a little, as if he was drunk, "of people telling me what to do. So are you, right?"

"I am," Takizawa says, and Tsubasa feels - relief, but Takizawa hasn't finished yet. "I am going to marry."

Tsubasa stares him in the face with eyes wide and face drawn, and gropes for an answer that wouldn't be a shout.

"Two years, and you're telling me now?"

Somehow his voice gets louder and louder and in the end he almost shouts anyway; he shuts his mouth and clenches his jaw till it aches. This is absurd. He doesn't have to - shriek like a madman. Takizawa must have meant something else entirely.

But everything is layers, now, making sense one after another, and in the end it's silence Tsubasa is left with.

Takizawa doesn't avert his eyes.

"I love you," he says and Tsubasa finds himself nodding. That he does know. But that's not enough, not anymore. He vaguely remembers the euphoria of their debut. It was barely enough even then. Was he always this greedy?

"But I'm going to marry," and the stubborn line of his jaw apparently suggests Tsubasa go fuck himself if he doesn't like something.

They both stay silent for a while, looking at each other, like animals, and like it's really a fight, when they don't intend it to be.

"Okay," Tsubasa says at last, nodding at the door. "Go."

Takizawa hesitates.

"Just...go away," Tsubasa suddenly shudders and thinks about throwing dishes at the floor. It would be very melodramatic and fitting. But he's so tired it hurts to stand, and he sits down, shuts his eyes, and hears the door slamming.

It's Takizawa's apartment, that's what funny.

Tsubasa laughs till it doesn't sound like laugh anymore.

***  
"You," Tsuyoshi says, pouring tea in a cup with three piggies drawn on it, which Tsubasa studies intently, not wanting to look at Tsuyoshi, "are an idiot. But you know this."

"Thank you for your irreplaceable insight," Tsubasa mutters darkly; equally dark circles linger under his eyes and it's been a week or so since he last saw Takizawa. ."..and anyway, then I fell asleep in his garbage can and then we kind of made up."

Tsuyoshi is silent for a while; he sips his tea from a cup three sizes bigger than Tsubasa's. Then, "Garbage can?"

"Don't you start."

"You will be telling this on the National TV and all you can make up is a *garbage can*?" Tsuyoshi snorts, which is uncharacteristic and Tsubasa wants to hit him. With a stick.

"I feel like shit," he says. Piggies look at him sympathetically and he turns their faces away. Sighs. "It's been a long week."

While it's true that Tsuyoshi is a good listener, he talks, too; he gives advice and, Tsubasa thinks, it's always true enough you don't want to hear it.

"Leave him," he says, shrugging, and Tsubasa is breathless for a second, and free, and imagines.

And says, "I can't."

"Why not?"

Tsubasa doesn't say anything. Tsuyoshi stands up, walks to one of his aquariums, enormous and massive, with ten or so sharp-toothed fish circling in there.

"You just be yourself for a while," he says slowly. "And see if you like it."

***  
He leaves Kitagawa's office at five, breathing in for what seems to be the first time in last two hours. Which he spent talking with Kitagawa, afraid the President won't let him do what he wanted, and even more afraid he would.

Tsubasa is now free, for a while, at least; there would be no Tackey &amp; Tsubasa unit activities for two months. They don't even need to meet face to face if hey don't want to.

He is scared to his guts.

He goes shopping, buys several useless things for the apartment, like a box of the floral soup which he never uses, and that somehow calms him, so when he drops all his purchases in the car, he calls some friends, invites them to dinner, and drives home. He thinks of Takizawa once or twice when he cooks, but really, this is all too familiar, these dinners with friends aren't rare, so all he has to do is pretend, and look, how convenient that he can do it perfectly. Tsubasa smirks.

It looks like he's about to cry, but he doesn't have a mirror in the kitchen; so he doesn't know.

Only when everyone is gone he breathes again; thinks he can only do it when there's nobody near him to listen to this terrible sound that emerges with his every breath. Maybe no one would hear anyway, but Tsubasa doesn't want to risk it.

***  
Takizawa stands in the doorway, leaning against the door-post, hands in his pockets, and looks directly at Tsubasa.

Tsubasa smiles at him, but he, after all, is a dancer, not an actor; he fails badly and Takizawa stands straight at once.

"Come back," he says quietly, looking over his shoulder, at the apartment where the other family lives, three people with whom Tsubasa isn't acquainted.

"No" he says, "come inside."

Takizawa hesitates a little, but comes anyway. Tsubasa closes the door and wants to kiss him, but does nothing, just stands still, waiting.

"Come back," Takizawa repeats. "I haven't seen you in three weeks."

Tsubasa shrugs. "I'm here," he says. "You can see me okay."

Takizawa sighs, and slides on a floor. "Are you blackmailing me?" comes from there. Tsubasa has to consider.

"Probably," he isn't sure, but it could be. "Is it working?"

"Yeah," Takizawa gives a short laugh. "Good enough."

They are silent for a while. Then Tsubasa sits opposite Takizawa. His hair is almost blond still, his eyes don't look red, nothing had changed since three weeks ago.

"What," Takizawa smiles at last; he is a much better actor than Tsubasa. "Can't a guy want to marry?"

"I don't."

"Good," comes the reply, "I don't want you to."

You're selfish, Tsubasa wants to say, but doesn't. He stretches his legs till his ankles brush Takizawa's. It's like a small electric shock, every time still, when they touch after not seeing each other for several days; but it's different today.

Tsubasa thinks about men in the club he went to in these three weeks; men he wanted to have sex with, men he wanted to like. He kissed one of them. It felt good, and arousing, and so wrong he felt sick almost instantly.

He leans forward to Takizawa, but it's too much of a distance between them, his legs hurt, and he ends up pulling Takizawa forward instead, till he sits on Tsubasa's lap.

Their lips are almost touching now; someone has to give in, and neither wants to be first. Tsubasa feels slow hot breath on his skin, and licks his lips, closing his eyes.

It starts slow; Takizawa nips on Tsubasa's ear, then goes lower, to his neck, feeling the pulse with his tongue, sliding down a little more, and then suddenly he kisses Tsubasa, hot tongue sliding in his mouth, and in this moment Tsubasa breathes again and thinks, that maybe, and forgets what, because Takizawa's left hand is already on his stomach, pulling the shirt up and away.

Tsubasa doesn't really remember how did they manage to stand up and go to the bedroom, but they did, so now he feels the pillow under his head, Takizawa's hands again on his body, and locks his fingers in Takizawa's hair, making the softest noises possible.

He gasps though, when Takizawa passes his hand over Tsubasa's cock, still trapped in jeans, and - this is kind of not comfortable at all, so Tsubasa pushes his hips closer to the hand, trying to make more contact; Takizawa laughs almost openly, and kisses him again, this time briefly, pauses and slides down, to the waistband of Tsubasa's jeans, carefully pulling them off. He stares for a second or two, because Tsubasa isn't wearing any underwear, and then grins, wild and carefree, and licks the tip of Tsubasa's cock.

Really, this whole sex thing, Tsubasa thinks some minutes later, while Takizawa puts his second finger in, it isn't really that great; he doesn't see stars, but - his thoughts become tangled - Takizawa thrusts in, again, then again, and this - yes - Tsubasa grips Takizawa's shoulders harder - this slow, almost painful pleasure, which threatens to overflow him - he opens his mouth, but no words come out, no breath either - and this is the reason he really can't leave.

***  
Then they lie not talking for some time, Takizawa on his back and Tsubasa so close to him he thinks he can hear Takizawa's heart beating, and he suddenly says, "J'adore," struggling to pronounce the word right. "Do you know what that means?" he asks.

Takizawa shakes his head.

"Want to?"

"No," Takizawa says. "Not really. Why the garbage can?"

It was a thousand years away, and Tsubasa tries to remember; nothing comes to mind. He shrugs.

"Sounded funny."

"Hmm," is all he gets for an answer.

Later still, when they are almost sleeping, Tsubasa drowsily mutters, "What now?"

And Takizawa says, "It's okay," and turns his head to Tsubasa, meeting his eyes. "I won't marry until I'm not in love with you anymore."

Tsubasa doesn't get it, not fully, but he nods anyway and snuggles closer. Takizawa sighs.

"Though at this point it might be never."

Then Tsubasa sleeps.

He dreams of breathing.


End file.
